Luminosity (Gravity Series #3) (The Gravity Series)

by Boyd, Abigail

  I should have kept my mouth shut, but being at the doctor’s office somehow made me feel as though there had to be something wrong with me. “I have really vivid dreams. Is that normal? Because my grandma had something like that and she had mental problems.”

  I felt Hugh’s eyes immediately dart towards me. They were practically burning a hole into my skull.

  Briggs frowned and shut my chart. “What are the dreams about? How frequently are you having them?”

  “They’re more like nightmares, about random people and events,” I said vaguely. “Not super frequently, but at least once a month.”

  “Do you ever have trouble moving afterward? Any loss of feeling? Incontinence?”

  “The trouble moving, a few times. And twice I woke up sort of numb and out of it”

  “You never told me about that, Ariel,” Hugh said, the words drifting off of his lips.

  Dr. Briggs looked troubled. “Let’s keep an eye on that. We might want to run an EEG for abnormalities. If it happens again, call my office immediately.”

  The doctor left the room with a final goodbye. My father’s polite grin dropped away the instant the door shut. He spun towards me.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about these dreams?” he demanded.

  “I didn’t think you’d understand,” I said truthfully. I saw the worried, unsure look on his face, and tried to comfort him. He wouldn’t believe the truth. “It’s not a big deal. Callie just told me to make sure I told him all the details. Everyone has nightmares.”

  CHAPTER 21

  “ALL OF YOU, up and out into the hall,” Principal McPherson said as he stormed into my homeroom on Monday morning. I’d wondered what was up when he had come on the morning announcements and told us homeroom would run long. Two beefy, preppy goons in plaid shirts hovered behind him, looking suspiciously eager.

  “For what?” one boy asked.

  “Locker inspections.”

  Everyone was still drowsy from the weekend, but we got up and started slogging out into the hall. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and shuffled out. I had nothing incriminating in my locker, but I still didn’t like the idea of McPherson or his cronies pawing through it.

  We lined up against the wall opposite our lockers. A few students went green and whispered about their personal paraphernalia.

  “Did anybody have any idea he was going to shake us down today?” asked one of the students. No one said yes.

  “He wanted to surprise us,” said another. “If we knew he was coming, we could hide whatever he’s out to find. I bet it’s pills. Literally, man, I bet you five it’s that.”

  The boys shook on it and I rolled my eyes.

  McPherson started from the left, opening the lockers with the master keys. He didn’t even do the dirty work—his cronies were the ones carelessly digging through the lockers and tossing things on the floor.

  “I think that’s against school code,” I spoke up.

  McPherson just sneered at me. He made no attempt to disguise it, his eyes angry red coals. “What’sa matter, Ms. Donovan? Worried I’m going to find something that doesn’t belong? Take it up with the school board.”

  “I’m more worried you’ll never find those marbles you lost.”

  The smile dropped off his face. “Which locker is yours?”

  I pointed to mine. He pushed the large frames of his recruited bullies aside, fiddled with the keys and wrenched my locker open.

  He dug through both shelves, chucking all of the contents on the floor. Watching him completely disregard my meager property pissed me off royally, but I choked back the complaint. I’d already done enough damage.

  I wanted to text Henry or Theo, wondering how many homerooms they were hitting or if they were targeting ours. On second thought, I knew they were—McPherson thought I had something.

  He finished with my locker, slammed it shut and handed the keys over to his henchmen. Then he limped over my belongings, sweat pouring down his greasy forehead.

  “You could pick that stuff up,” I snapped angrily. A little more damage won’t hurt.

  “Don’t push it with me, young kettlefish. Boys, search her pack.”

  The two goons lurched over to me. I protested, but they wrenched the backpack off my back. The stockier of the two broke the zipper and dumped the contents on the floor. He shook his head at McPherson.

  Not wanting to risk expulsion, I resisted the urge to claw his face off. At least I’d had the lucky idea to take embarrassing personal feminine hygiene products out a couple of weeks ago; a scattered bouquet of tampons would be just the thing to make me live in infamy forever.

  I was on the verge of crying, shocked by the invasion. Any minute now people would start laughing at me. Instead, a couple of classmates silently helped me while I bent down and shoved things back into my broken backpack and locker. I felt violated. McPherson didn’t seem as smug anymore, though, as though the wind had been knocked out of his sails. As though he didn’t find what he was looking for. My necklace. As soon as the thought bloomed, I was sure of it. I’d left it at home beneath my mattress that morning and was now thankful for my bad memory.

  They worked down a couple more lockers, but McPherson didn’t follow them. Suddenly, the henchmen paused, conferring with each other.

  “Principal McPherson, we found something,” the thinner boy said.

  McPherson, who had totally lost interest when my locker hadn’t held a Colombian drug lord’s stash, went over to the open locker. He pulled out a rather large bag of green herbs.

  “Whose locker is this?” he said, looking in that moment just like the Grinch about to invade Whoville.

  Someone pushed Charlotte Gary forward and she stumbled out. She looked down at the floor, monochromatic from her pale face and dark makeup.

  “Nice Halloween costume,” one of the goons said. She was just dressed like she normally was and he knew that. We all knew it.

  “Is this yours?” McPherson barked, jamming the baggie under her nose.

  Her eyes darted around. “It’s my locker, but that’s not mine. Somebody planted it in there.”

  McPherson chuckled. “Nice try. You know this isn’t the first time you’ve tumbled in trouble even this week. Such a let down. You’ve punched all the holes on your ticket, Lotte. I think it’s finally time to take out the trash.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “To my office. Now!” She began marching with little choice since the henchmen were behind her, literally laughing behind her back and imitating her stiff, masculine walk.

  To the rest of us, McPherson said, “Back to class. The bell will go off in five minutes and you’ll be able to zip to first period for a shortened clock.”

  We shuffled back into class. Charlotte was finally going to get the punishment that had been evading her, at least I assumed so. But I wondered if McPherson was going to stop with me, or if, since he hadn’t found the necklace, he’d keep digging. Like a dog in a pile of dirt.

  ###

  As fall continued, my nose was buried in my studies for a while. Jenna and I had spoken about different ways that we could find out more information, but all of them required work and time that I didn’t have. All the while, the necklace seemed to invisibly call to me from the hollow spot in my mattress where I now stored it. I couldn’t find a lead-lined box, but a small tackle box had seemed to help.

  For our last Halloween in Hell, Alex, Theo and I were planning on going trick-or-treating. We hadn’t been in years, but we didn’t want to miss this last opportunity.

  I modeled my costume for Henry beforehand. He had sneaked into my room again via the basement door, something he’d been doing with regularity now that Hugh wasn’t there to be a watchdog and Claire was MIA. Our beautiful spot on the Hill was only a rare treat now.

  I had a problem with slutty costumes, but I decided to go as the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland. I had found a really pretty costume online, one of the few that looked modest
compared with Sexy Elmo and Sexy Toothbrush, but unfortunately when it arrived it was three inches shorter than the picture showed.

  “Don’t you like it?” I asked Henry, who was leaning back on my bed, giving me a funny look.

  “Oh, I like it. I just don’t think I want other people seeing you in it.”

  I tossed a pillow at him.

  “Too bad I can’t go with,” he said, catching it.

  I stopped, studying him. “It won’t be that special. I don’t think you’d like it, anyway, you know how the three of us get when we’re together. It’d be too immature for you and you’d get bored.”

  Henry stared at a spot on the floor and I sensed that I’d hit a nerve. “You make it sound like I’m some stuffy old man.”

  “That’s not my intention. But you know we can’t be seen together, especially not in public like that.”

  I thought I heard footsteps in the hall. Frowning, I peeked out, but didn’t see anything. Still, the shot of paranoia didn’t abate.

  “What’s wrong?” Henry asked, standing behind me.

  `I heard the doorbell ring upstairs. “Crap, they’re earlier. I’ve got to go.” I jumped forward and kissed him gently on the cheek. “You can let yourself out, right?”

  “Right,” he repeated softly.

  I wanted to stay and comfort him, but there was no time. Upstairs, I greeted Alex and Theo who were hovering in the doorway. Both of them were already dressed in their costumes, too.

  “What’s up?” Theo asked casually.

  “What do you mean?” I asked suspiciously as I was pulling the door shut.

  She shrugged. “Just making conversation.”

  We got in the Creep and headed over to the other side of town. The sun hadn’t even started to set, but already gaggles of gremlins were stalking the streets.

  “You look tired,” Theo told me when we were walking. I couldn’t take her seriously in her costume. ‘Fairy barf’ she’d called it when I’d asked. She had sewn together all kinds of scraps of fabric and slathered herself in glitter and puffy paint, spraying her hair up in chunks like she had poked an electrical socket.

  “Just have a lot on my mind. The more candy we get, the better I’ll feel,” I said.

  Alex was way too tall to be trick-or-treating. At over six feet, wearing a sheet and a football helmet, he looked like a giant compared to the groups of elementary school kids. Yet he remained unfazed, despite the funny looks we got.

  We were soon hitting each house, our bags dragging on the ground. We passed by a couple of hot guys dressed up as vampires who looked me up and down lasciviously.

  Theo whistled after them, making wolf calling noises. I pushed her gently. “Stop it.” I felt like I was blushing from the knees up.

  “When are you going to start dating again? Or are you going to carry the torch for Henry forever?” Theo asked.

  “I’m just not interested right now. I’ve got enough going on.”

  “What is all this mysterious stuff that I am not privy to?” Theo teased. I’d kept her as up to date as I knew how without bringing Henry into it. I had to weave the story around the holes he left.

  “Nothing that mysterious. Mostly just too much of the mundane stuff.”

  I looked across the street, trying to think up a change of subject. Ambrose Slaughter was standing there in his now bloody tuxedo, staring at me with smoke tendrils curling off his shoulders. I blinked and he was gone, a group of kids in costumes running in his place.

  “You ready to keep moving?” Alex asked me softly. I realized I’d just been staring, slack-jawed, at where Ambrose had been.

  Theo had gone a little ways in front of us. She stopped and twirled around. “Are you coming, slow-pokes?” She gave a dazzling smile with her blue lips, looking so much more mature than the meek girl I’d met sophomore year.

  Alex and I began moving again, staying a little back from Theo in her eagerness.

  “How has everything been going?” I asked Alex when we were just out of earshot. “Did you have a talk with her?”

  Alex nodded. “It seems to be going better. She still thinks I should look for a job out there, though.”

  We’d already hit the clustered suburban houses and now we were entering a ritzy, fancy neighborhood where the sprawling houses were placed apart. A familiar silver Mercedes rolled slowly beside us. The driver’s side window went down and Harlow glared at us with Lainey next to her.

  “Aren’t you three a little old for trick-or-treating?” Lainey snarked. She and Harlow were dressed up as, by my best guess, sexy zombies. Fake blood spilled out of their mouths and over their low-cut costumes.

  “What, jealous Lainey?” Alex teased. He was popular enough not to take her ribbing. “Did you dress up like a hooker again this year?”

  Lainey glared at him, flipping up her black polished middle finger. Harlow hit the gas hard, burning rubber, causing a puddle of mud to shoot up on us. We backed away fast enough to miss most of the impact, the smell of the burnt rubber in the air.

  “What do you think they were doing out?” Theo asked.

  “Probably going to Steff Barton’s big Halloween party. It’s in Lainey’s neighborhood, Harlow lives on the other side of town. That means we’re getting close to the good stuff,” Alex said, rubbing his hands. “King Size bars and gift bags.”

  At the next house, a girl in a witch costume and a little boy of about five in a devil costume were ahead of us. I saw the girl was Charlotte Gary.

  Charlotte rang the doorbell. The gray-haired woman who answered scowled at her. “I’m all out of candy,” she said. Then she slammed the door in Charlotte’s face.

  She peered down at the little boy with her. “Don’t worry, David. People aren’t always such assholes.” She shouted the last word at the top of her lungs, then grabbed a strand of pumpkin lights, ripping them off of the window and stomped on them.

  Alex stepped up and dug a handful of candy bars out of his pillowcase. He dropped them into the boy’s orange plastic pumpkin.

  “There you go, little devil,” Alex said. “Don’t eat them all at once.” He was greeted with the boy’s small, freckled face grinning.

  Charlotte grabbed the little boy’s hand. “We don’t need your charity,” she growled and sped off of the porch.

  “That girl has massive issues,” Theo said.

  “No kidding,” I said, watching Charlotte and the boy jog down the street. I wondered just exactly where her issues came from.

  CHAPTER 22

  I QUIZZED THE few people at school I knew of who were friends, of a sort, with Charlotte. Although reluctant to talk to me, they all told me variations of the same story—she was trouble, her mom was a drunk who let her variety of boyfriends come and stay the night, that she wasn’t just doing drugs she was dealing them, too. No one had a kind word to say about her.

  “You’d be hard pressed to find anyone that misses her,” Kristy Hertz said. “Not after she lied about running away.”

  “Running away?”

  “To see her real dad. But that’s a joke; her mom probably doesn’t even know who he is.”

  Brett Halliday, who had half of his head shaved and the remaining flap of hair dyed fuchsia, told me where she lived. “Sunny Estates. One of the crappy trailers in the front. I mean, relatively more crappy; they’re all crappy. I bought from her a few times, but she sold garbage, mostly stems. As long as she don’t come back with a gun, I don’t give a sh—”

  “Thanks,” I said, silencing him and going on my way.

  I scouted Charlotte out at her trailer at Sunny Estates, the most run down park in town. Brett hadn’t been exaggerating about the crap factor. It was a weather-beaten little single wide, with a sad porch next to a bunch of plastic daisies with the petals kicked off.

  I knocked and Charlotte came to the door. Her eyes were heavily ringed with black liner and shadow, the contrast with her pale face making her look like a raccoon.

  “What are you doing her
e?” she croaked at me. She had a can of beer in her hand and she tipped it back, tossing it among the plastic daisies.

  “Um, I wanted to talk to you,” I said, feeling awkward and thinking I’d made a mistake coming there. “About why you were expelled. Are you busy?”

  She looked at me suspiciously, then stepped back, sweeping her arm out. “No. You can come in.”

  Inside it smelled overwhelmingly of spilled beer and cloves. Yellow, sticky flypaper tapes hung from the ceiling, at maximum occupancy. There wasn’t much actual furniture; the couch looked like it had been ripped up by a dog, two card tables tucked off to the sides.

  “Have a seat wherever you can find one,” she said, gesturing to the battered living area. “My mom’s at work at the gas station; she won’t be back for a while.” There were a few milk crates instead of chairs. I sat down on one, feeling it bite into my butt.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said, returning a few moments later with another beer. She tilted the can in my direction. “You want one?”

  I shook my head, biting my bottom lip and feeling nerves turn my stomach into directionless butterflies.

  “I didn’t think so,” she said, commandeering another crate and leaning against the wall next to some Sharpie doodles that bore her distinctive style. She kicked the crate back with her boot and dropped down, smirking to herself.

  “I don’t know what you’ve been watching, but drinking beer doesn’t make you cool. You’re still just a punk and even that’s only a costume.”

  I don’t know what made me say it. But now that we were alone together, I could sense a fragility inside of her that I hadn’t before and it made me more brave.

  Instead of reprimanding me, her nostrils flared, septum piercing shaking. “What do you want to know?” she asked gruffly.

  “It seemed to take a lot of marks for the school to expel you,” I said, trying to keep eye contact with her. “Weapons in school, fighting. I know that wasn’t your first time being caught with drugs considering you ran a dispensary from your locker. So, why now? Was it a three-strikes situation?”